CHAPTER 8
Jannie
“Dr. Larssen?”
“It’s Cassie Edwards. She’s on the phone.”
Jannie’s fingers tightened on the chart. “OK.”
“She’s upset about the bill she just received.”
“Crap,” Jannie muttered under her breath. “Don’t tell me.”
Sandy nodded grimly. “It happened again. Her insurance refused to cover the treatment, and she’s freaking out. She says it’s our fault that they declined it, and she wants to talk to you.”
Jannie pressed two fingers to the bridge of her nose. These insurance companies were the bane of her existence. How was she supposed to treat people when everything she wanted to do was denied?
“Tell her I’ll call her as soon as I finish with—”
“She wants to talk to you now,” Sandy said. “I tried to tell her you were with a patient. She won’t take no for an answer.”
Jannie sighed.
Which patient should she piss off this time: the one on the phone who was blaming her staff for something beyond their control or the one waiting in the room in front of her whose appointment was rescheduled because Jannie had been on medical leave?
As if in answer, an irritated voice came from inside. “I’m waiting in here!”
Jannie gave Sandy a pointed look. “She’s waiting in there.” Pressing down on the door handle, she gave the receptionist her best reassuring smile. “Tell Cassie I’ll call her right after I’m done here.”
“All right.” Sandy wasn’t pleased, and it showed. Shoulders sagging, she turned, shaking her head as she hurried back toward the reception area.
“No,” came from inside Room 5. “No, she hasn’t.
I’m still fucking sitting here.” A pause.
“I don’t know what’s taking so damned long.
My appointment was almost an hour ago. If they knew the wait was this long, why did they put me in the room?
To freeze my ass off and stare at gross posters of the female reproductive system? ”
Jannie took a deep breath, held it, and slowly exhaled. Then, she knocked.
“Gotta go,” she heard the patient say. “She finally decided to show up.”
Jannie’s stomach knotted. Her heart started to pump harder despite her efforts to remain calm and composed.
“Yeah,” the patient bit out, “come in.”
Squaring her shoulders and plastering a smile on her face, Jannie opened the door and stepped into the exam room. “Hello.”
A young woman sat on the table, her nostrils flaring, eyes flashing, jaw tight. “You’re late,” she said, declaring the obvious with blatant hostility.
“I’m sorry for the wait,” Jannie said pleasantly.
“Yeah, right!” the woman yelled. “I have been sitting here naked in this stupid paper gown, freezing my ass off! And this appointment is doubly late because you were supposed to see me last month!”
Jannie schooled her features.
Professional. Remain cool and professional. Saying nothing was what she had to do, no matter how difficult it was to stand there and take it.
The woman’s eyes narrowed to slits. “I hope you enjoyed your vacation.”
Jannie swallowed back an acid retort. Yes, I enjoyed bleeding, hurting, and crying. She had returned to work after two weeks, thinking that keeping busy would alleviate the sadness and all-consuming sense of emptiness and loneliness. But on days like today, she wished she could teleport elsewhere.
Thankfully, the rest of her six-and-a-half-hour shift went smoothly.
One of her favorite patients showed up with her new baby, flowers, and cookies for the staff, bringing much-needed brightness to Jannie’s day.
But by the time she finished seeing the last of her thirty-two patients and completed the two hours of necessary charting, she was drained.
Closing her laptop, she rubbed her temples, dreading the seventy-two hours she’d be on call this weekend.
This wasn’t how she had envisioned being a doctor. Her mother’s insistence that Jannie should pursue her second career choice—caring for women and delivering babies—had turned into deep disappointment and the greatest regret of her life.
For what seemed to be the thousandth time in the past year, she wondered what her life would have been like had she followed her dreams and gone into aviation. Her younger brother Ian had also tried to take a different path, only to abandon his law practice and join the family business.
She stood and rubbed her aching lower back. Retrieving her vintage Balenciaga Weekender tote, which doubled as a gym bag, she unzipped the front pocket and rummaged inside for her car key.
Her fingers closed around the fob, and she smiled, anticipating driving her Panamera, the sole good thing left from her marriage.
Blake had ordered the Porsche GTS for himself in black.
On divorce day, she called the dealer and changed the allocation to orange.
It was a fantastic color for a Florida car, and she felt exhilarated and free every time she turned the ignition key and heard that engine growl.
She wished she could feel that way at other times.
·
Two Months Later
Jannie started as cold wetness swiped her cheek, followed by the hot lap of a tongue. Hard claws raked her arm. She opened one eye and made out the silhouette of a huge head with triangle-shaped ears.
“Off,” she muttered, grimacing as she endured one more lick and a whiff of dog breath before the German Shepherd dropped to the floor, not moving back an inch and still panting in her face as his heavy tail thumped rhythmically against her nightstand.
He nudged her with his cold, wet nose.
“Butthead. You know better than that.”
This was unusual. She’d trained Rolf for years to be the well-behaved dog he now was at seven, and if he did this, he sensed she was in bad shape.
She gave no shits.
Jannie picked up her phone to check the time.
Huh. Noon. Another Saturday morning she’d slept away.
The light-blocking blinds did a great job of concealing daylight. She reached to switch on the salt lamp on her nightstand, the globe illuminating the small room in soft orange light, and found herself staring into round, soulful brown eyes.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. You need to go out.”
That last word earned her a pointy-eared head tilt.
She had to smile. Dog head tilts were always funny, especially when carried out to the extreme by a German Shepherd.
She reached out to caress one impossibly soft ear.
It felt like warm velvet, and she always marveled at how such ferocious-looking beasts could have the softest ears in the world—the secret of German Shepherd owners.
She sat up, her head spinning a bit as she swung her legs over the side of the bed.
Rolf, of course, didn’t move, his fur tickling her feet and ankles as he pressed against her leg.
They called these dogs Velcro dogs for a reason, and lately, he was the only reason Jannie got out of bed on weekends when she was not on call.
She shoved the covers aside and moved toward the sliding glass door, waiting for Rolf to politely sit as she unlatched and pulled it open.
She made eye contact, and he fixed on her, round brown eyes shining, doggie mouth opening in a white-toothed canine grin.
“OK!”
The instant the release word left her mouth, Rolf bolted, pausing to pick up a fuzzy toy before bounding to the cluster of queen palms across the yard to lift his leg.
Jannie squinted and blinked, the bright Florida sunshine stinging her eyes, the limestone pool deck smooth and warm beneath her bare feet.
The clear blue sky reflected in the water.
Another beautiful day. The lake out back shimmered, the rippling water gilded silver. Overhead, a pelican flapped to the middle of the lake, pressed its wings close to its body, and dived with a splash, disappearing for an instant before resurfacing with a small fish.
“What are you doing way out here? You should be in Tampa.”
OK, now she was talking to pelicans. She’d really lost the plot.
Rolf trotted to the back fence, intently sniffing, then lifted his leg again.
Even with all her medical knowledge, Jannie couldn’t figure out the never-ending pee supply dogs possessed.
She yanked up her pajama pants, now constantly slipping down since she’d lost so much weight, then clapped her hands twice.
Rolf bounded back to her like a rocket, periwinkle dragon in his mouth, round brown eyes shining with hope.
She shook her head and slid open the heavy glass door. “Not today, bud. Inside.”
Disappointment filled the dog’s face. Why did German Shepherds have to be so humanlike?
She should have gone for a breed that wasn’t so expressive and in tune with its handler.
Guilt clenched her stomach as she went inside, followed by a dejected Rolf, who immediately headed to his dog bed and flopped on it, chin between his large paws, the whites of his eyes visible as he sulked and fixed her with woeful doggie eyes.
Maybe in the near future she’d feel like hiking with him again. But not today.
Jannie stretched out on the sofa and dragged a soft, fuzzy blanket over herself, then picked up her phone and started scrolling through her Instagram feed.
Her brothers in uniform, grinning in the cockpit of the G550.
Her sister-in-law, the physical therapy doctoral student, gorgeous and cheerful, demonstrating a stretching technique.
A reel advertising a shampoo that supposedly solved any hair problem.
Rescued otters shooting hoops in a pool.
Florida Man running from cops in the Keys and jumping into the ocean.
Ugh.
She tossed her phone to the seat beside hers.
Posts like that made people think Florida was only populated by nut jobs, which simply wasn’t true. Jannie yawned.
So tired.
She shuffled back to the small guest bedroom where she’d taken refuge, thankful for the light-blocking blinds, and slid between the sheets.
Snuggling deep into the covers, she closed her eyes, hugged her body pillow, and listened to Rolf scratch vigorously for a good while before he finally settled.
Jannie closed her eyes, trying to relax and get some much-needed rest.